Saturday, July 9, 2011

The Girl in the Linen Dress

The golden light of dusk,
fed her eyes, her face and hair,
and turned on fire
the most beautiful linen dress.

Not the sand under her feet,
nor the sea to which she gave warmth,
could keep me from gazing,
at such a wonderful sight.

And she turned on her dance,
the welcomed marine breeze,
to which her sacred white dress kept beat,
channeling my every sense into the deepest bliss.

Yet, my every intent to approach her,
were desperately vain, as she followed
to turn and turn, fading out, growing pale,
turning my sweet princess, into a forgone tale.

(Happy 21st Birthday to me!)

13 comments:

s.bee said...

Very intimate and deep...delicate and pretty...i am officially a fan! @poeticmemoirs

emmettwheatfall.com said...

Wow! Very lovely and quite poetic.

zongrik said...

The turning makes her seem like a dancer.

Fred said...

Well done. Enjoyed the read. I agree with s. bee intimate indeed. Also, happy belated birthday, hope you had a few to celebrate

blackswanpoetry said...

good write and very beautiful...

Randy Sturridge said...

I greatly enjoyed this. It brought upon a wave of nostalgia that one often feels whilst in the grasp of a new love and the wonderful butterflies that it brings. It is fleeting but to live in those moments forever would be some sort of Heaven. Thank you for this wonderful read.
Ripplebypoetry

Juan-Carlos Hernandez - Photographer said...

great ! intimacy ..

zaji said...

Lovely piece.

Andrew Stergiou said...

dark and often mysterious,
cryptic and lost,
redundant and found,
never nice never good
ever hopeful never bad

critical always critical
painfully critical
never good never bad
poetry like an open wound
never wounds never heals
never wins never loses
as writing or citation
golden dusk black and gold
open eyes peering face to face
in linen dress white sand
bare feet cold ocean waves

dark and often mysterious,
cryptic and lost,
redundant and found,
never nice never good
ever hopeful never bad

lives begin life ends
in waves breathing
critical always critical
painfully critical
beaten but never broken

MusePersephone said...

I loved the final rhyme - perfect ending for an exquisite poem! Nice job!

Andrew Stergiou said...

Most thanks, what many don't realize is that at times very unaccustomed to contact and people as if living "in little worlds", not knowing what people want any more, the mind turns inward insanity and doesn't try, for all people want is to be, and they are not merely allowed to merely be.

buzz buzz be be but but see see eye eye no no go go so so.

best wishes to all my friends

Cynthia said...

I love the romantic yearning in
this poem, that you have captured
so well.

Michael said...

Metaphysically aspiring description of the shadowed shores of time, where ghostly beauty is the undefined, an element like melodic fog flowing across a cryptic night. You capture the moment and the motive. Great Work! I liked this!